


Knock of Your Heart

by Rubynye



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Canon Character of Color, Clothed Sex, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Feelings, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Multiple Pairings, Porn with Feelings, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:54:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22445164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rubynye/pseuds/Rubynye
Summary: Rose kisses her enemy and confides in her friend.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Rose Tico, Kaydel Ko Connix/Rose Tico
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 5





	Knock of Your Heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [doublejoint](https://archiveofourown.org/users/doublejoint/gifts).



> Written for stephanericher in the Chocolate Box 2020 Challenge. I’ve been wanting to write a Rose/Hux story since I saw that epic bitey gifset. Thank you so much for the plot bunny which finally let me do so. 
> 
> Title from “Level Up” by Vienna Teng . Spoilers for _The Rise of Skywalker_

Kaydel drifts up out of restful darkness, pulled by some soft sound, some alert, something worrisome? Sad? Sobbing, muffled sobbing, as Rose shakes under her arm, rolled almost completely away.

Kaydel surges towards her, whispering, “Rose?” Starlight leaks through the makeshift canopy over them, glinting off Rose’s shining hair, shivering like flowing water. Kaydel’s heart tightens behind her ribs as she slides her hand up Rose’s shoulder, as Rose makes a high pained noise and curls tighter away from her, tipping their hammock. “Rose, please?” Kaydel asks again, low and desperate and starting to be scared.

Rose shudders harder all over, and snuffles, and rolls towards Kaydel so fast the hammock swings a little. She pushes her face into Kaydel’s shoulder, muttering a crushed word into her chest. Kaydel rubs her sleep-itchy eyes and wraps her arms around Rose, petting the fine skin between her shoulder blades until she stills, until she repeats the murmur. It’s the word, “Sorry.”

“No problem,” Kaydel murmurs back, stroking Rose’s neck, her nape under the silky fall of her hair. “No problem at all. We all have our nightmares.” Rose rubs her face into Kaydel’s shoulder, winding an arm around her waist, hooking a knee behind hers, and Kaydel tightens her arms comfortingly. “You don’t have to, but do you want to talk about—?”

“No,” Rose cuts her off, warm breath on her skin, and then looks up, her eyes liquid and glittering in the starlight. “No, I don’t want…” Kaydel nods, but Rose shakes her head harder. “But I have to.”

“You don’t—“

“I have to,” Rose insists, lifting her hands to frame Kaydel’s face, and she’s shaking again, her chest hitching against Kaydel’s, her whole body trembling. Kaydel wants to shush her, croon to her, comfort her somehow as her eyes run over and she shivers with unhappiness. “I have to tell you this. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“Rose,” Kaydel whispers, trying for comfort, falling to a question, and Rose closes her eyes and sobs once, heart-wrenchingly, then forces herself to look up at Kaydel again.

“Please forgive me,” she says, so softly Kaydel feels her own eyes prickling with tears, and starts to tell.

* * *

Another day, another capture, after a stupid kriffing mistake. Rose stumbles along as the stormtroopers hustle her down the sterile grey hallway, their gloved mitts denting her upper arms, her hands cuffed in front of her because they’ll never learn. She can get out of these four different ways, at least, as soon as she can stand still. She can get herself out of here before anyone even notices she didn’t check in, she knows. Without anyone’s help. Definitely without _his_ , she tells herself. And tells herself again, as she catches herself from falling, as she trots to keep up with the stormtroopers hauling her, as she tries not to hope in the wrong direction. 

They rush her around a corner, one of them palms open a completely nondescript door in a row of doors, and they shove her into a completely empty, tiny room, barely big enough for her to lie down across the floor if she wanted to. The door shuts and a light comes on. Surprisingly humane; she was expecting to need to dig out a glow stick. She’s got plenty in the hidden pockets their quick pat-downs never find.

Rose takes a breath of the acrid recycled air — the Resistance uses better quality filters on its ships — steps to the wall and props up the cuffs in front of her to get a better look at them. The closure seam is a lot narrower on this pair. Maybe she can only manage three different ways. Possibly two. But she can do this, she repeats to herself. She can do this. Without _his_ help. 

The door clicks open. Rose spins, pressing herself into the angle of the walls, fists up if still cuffed, ready for —

She’s never ready for _him_. Admiral ( _Armitage_ , she doesn’t whisper to herself) Hux steps into the room, dressed in black from gleaming boots to high collar, tall and pale and pointy with blazing hair. Rose pulls her hands to her chest like she can protect herself, like she can hide from him, her heart thumping into overdrive. He reaches back, palming the door shut, his mouth crimped tight as he stares at her with those gasfire eyes. 

Rose should shake her head. She should defy him. She should scream. She stares back, tilting her chin up, trying to set her jaw firmly, trying to look formidable. 

He lunges at her, lips already parted, and her body flings her forward to meet him.

They crash into the kiss, his bottom lip denting under her teeth as he shoves her to the wall, his hands gripping her shoulders, clutching her waist, scrabbling across her back. She pushes her hands up, hooking them behind his neck, her fingers barely skimming over his hair, but it bends him to her, pressing his hungry mouth tighter to hers. She arches forward to him, her skin heating all over inside her coveralls, her nipples tingling against her top, her underthings already sticky damp as he pushes his firm thigh between hers and she bears down on him, squirming as she chases the hardness. 

But bending to her curves his body away from hers; he growls, buzzing into her mouth, pushes his hands under her thighs and lifts her, deceptively strong, pressing his hips between her thighs. She can feel him, through her clothes and his uniform, a hard ridge of human flesh through all the barriers between them. He shoves her higher, pushing her above him, and she plunges into his mouth, tasting his shudder, biting his lip to feel him groan. 

“Here,” he gasps against her tingling lips as he pulls his left hand away, raising it to her cuffs. They fall away and outrage flares up — she could’ve _done_ it — but there’s no time to argue. One hand buried in his slick hair, she shoves the other down his nape, squeezing his shoulder, gasping for him when he thrusts his hips up and bounces her, as his hard fingers brand her where thighs meets ass. His collar’s fastenings are inside, she shouldn’t even know that, she has it open already; she shoves her hand in, thumb on his hammering pulse, palm curved to his damp fevered skin, as she smears her mouth down his chin, as he gasps against the bridge of her nose, “Yes,” and “please,” as he kisses between her eyes.

She tilts her head, pushing her mouth into his gaping collar, he grips her tighter with both hands, hoisting her up, and she bites him. He hisses, rutting up against her, and she rolls her hips down, slickly wet inside her clothes, already longing to be filled. 

“Please,” he groans again, “Rose,” and she nods against his skin, kisses the burning-hot bite she left, reaches between their bellies to pry his trousers open. She pushes her fingers into his fly, finds him throbbing in her grip as his mouth roams her temple and ear, raining fierce kisses on the side of her face. She strokes him, down and up, but he thrashes his head, dragging his nose back and forth along her cheek, and she pushes her eyes open, every gasp crushing her chest against his, shudders as her breasts tingle, and looks up.

His eyes have never been so big, such engulfing blue. “Please,” he asks, desperately, pink all over beneath his blazing hair. “Please, let me, inside you —“

Rose’s breath catches in her chest. His eyes squeeze shut, he swallows hard, apple bobbing jerkily in his throat. They’ve done this three times before, using their hands on each other; the first time he left her in her cuffs, pushed her thighs apart and used his mouth on her, unlocked her after. They haven’t properly fucked. Yet.

“Yes,” Rose breathes, and his eyebrows fly up, his eyes go round, searing as stars. She ducks away from those eyes, pressing her face under his chin, grazing his throat with her teeth as she reaches for the zipper between her thighs spread around his narrow waist. He sucks in sibilant air as she pulls her underthings sideways with two fingers, nudging her nether lips open for him, murmuring into the hollow of his throat, “yes, come on, do it—!”

He does, shoving up into her, slick and burning at the same time, slamming his hips up against hers. She gasps and he puffs against her cheek, denting her skin with that pointy nose, pressing their mouths together just as he moans, deep and open. He bounces her, knocking a little shriek out of her as they slam flush, as she feels him filling her, overwhelming and more. She grips his side, ropy muscles surging beneath her palm, her fingers crimping into all those layers of uniform. Their hips roll together, their kisses deep and desperate, and when the next bounce hits just _perfectly_ lights burst behind her eyes. He moans and moans into her, keeps holding her up, keeps fucking her until she overflows, pleasure sweeping through her.

He feels her come, shuddering hard enough to rattle her teeth, pulling his mouth back to kiss all over her face as he gasps and thrusts. He moans, “Rose,” into her hair, and she pushes her hand up to clutch his shoulder, tightens her other fist in his hair as he presses clenched teeth like blades against her forehead and comes too, his breath stuttering. As he comes inside her.

 _Why did you let him,_ Rose asks herself, winded and shaking, pressed between Admiral Hux’s lean body and the unforgiving wall, and can’t find a shred of regret inside herself. Just sloshing pleasure, and twinges in her thighs, and him still heavy inside her as he leans on her, shaking in her hold, panting into her hair.

Rose feels the precise moment he catches himself, listens as he ruthlessly shoves his breathing into a disciplined pattern, feels his hands loosen on her thighs. He sucks in a breath deep enough to whisk through her hair, pulls away his right hand to grasp himself, and she tries not to but she can’t help make a little soft noise at the sheer sensation of him pulling out of her. 

Above her his breath hitches, and as soon as he lets her down onto her feet his gloved hand cups her cheek, turning her face up. “Did I hurt you?” he asks, red hair ruffled in every direction, face still flushed pink, eyes warm like a summer sky.

Rose’s chest locks up, and she twists her head out of his grip, looking down at his sleek black chest as she mutters, “No.” Admiral Hux ( _Armitage_ ) steps back, and Rose closes her eyes and fixes her clothes, tugging her sticky underthings back into place and zipping herself up, wishing for a wipe, a ‘fresher, and maybe a herd of fathiers while she’s at it.

When she opens her eyes again he’s closed his, all buttoned up at throat and thighs, arms up as he combs his hair back into its neat part. The ventilation has already pulled the scents of sex from the air. Rose brushes her hands over her hair, and after a moment his hands join hers, smoothing her hair back as she pulls out her tie and re-ties her ponytail.

He opens his eyes again, and the flush is going down, leaving him the pale pointy- faced Admiral who masterminded the deaths of so many millions. Only his eyes haven’t gone back to normal, still such a soft blue they hurt her heart. _Why,_ Rose wants to ask him, ask herself. They’re enemies. She’s supposed to hate him. Why does she want him? Why doesn’t he treat her like a captive, interrogate her, hurt her? Why does he _ask_ her, each time? Why does he keep letting her go?

He takes another step back, tugging at his glove, then gives up and actually smiles on one side of his mouth as he holds his hand out. “Help me, please?” 

Rose should … her brain is too melted to think of what she should. She takes his wrist between her hands, lightly sinks her teeth into the leather over his forefinger, listens to him inhale sharply, and tugs on the glove until the suction gives. He pulls his hand back and she peels the glove away with her teeth and her hands, and gives it back to him.

“We need to get you out of here,” he says, and his voice is already firming towards that hateful crispness. Rose wants to slap his sharp cheekbone, to grip his shoulders with both hands and climb him again. 

All she does is make herself ask, “How?” 

He reaches towards her, trailing his bare fingers over her collarbones, over one of her hidden pockets, over her smaller taser. “You overpower me,” he says, and his smile is small and twisted.

Rose feels her eyebrows lift. The last time they captured her, the first time she did this with him, he staged electrical malfunctions. The other times they’ve met (by _chance_ , she tells herself) on neutral, if disputed, ground. “That’ll hurt.”

He pulls his hand away, squaring his shoulders back into military precision, and now he looks so easy to hate. “Do it,” he snaps coolly, trying to goad her into wanting to hurt him.

She’s still too warm inside, too shaken and stirred for rigid rules. She pulls the taser out slowly, looking up at him as he stands there, doing his best to sneer down at her, to look as infuriating as he did when she bit him. 

That moment's lightyears away. He reaches out one more time, brushes four bare fingertips down her cheek, and steps back into far arm’s reach. As he unlocks the door with his palm he nods, and Rose nods, and zaps him. Teeth clenched, he crashes soundlessly into the far wall, and Rose feels dizzy with confusion as she watches him slump to the floor, wanting to kick him, wanting to rush over and make sure he’s okay, wanting to get home to the Resistance.

Struggling, he cracks open one eye. “You’ll hear from me,” he promises, voice rasping. He winces, eye shutting, and slumps over further, and Rose nods again, pushes the door open, and goes.

* * *

Kaydel stares at Rose, too shocked to move, which should’ve been trained out of her long ago. Rose lies here in her arms, tender and wet-eyed, and she just confessed an affair with, “Admiral _Hux_?!”

“I’m sorry,” Rose sobs, curling her arms around herself, smudging a hand across her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

“When?” Is all Kaydel can gasp. “Were you two still — when we start--?”

“No, no.” Rose presses both hands to her face, but her words are clear. “Not since months and months ago. I know should’ve told you, but I couldn’t, how could I? How could I even begin to explain — this?”

Her voice cracks, right down the middle, and Kaydel’s heart hurts for her. She tries to be angry, disgusted, but can only ache for Rose, dragging around this heavy secret all this time. She can barely even put any strength behind, “Did you tell him—?”

Rose is already shaking her head. She looks up at Kaydel, and even in the starlight her eyes look sore. “I never told him anything.” But she looks down again. “He never asked. I don’t know why he never asked. I don’t know if—“

“You wouldn’t’ve,” Kaydel says to both of them, sure of it, sure of Rose beyond this wild confession, but Rose shakes her head again.

“I don’t know, I can’t know. I don’t even know why…” She stops short, shutting her eyes.

Kaydel touches her cheek, and Rose looks at her again, eyes welling and overflowing, tears spilling onto Kaydel’s shoulder. Kaydel looks at her, really looks at her, and only sees her same sweet Rose. “I don’t think you would have,” she says gently, and kisses Rose’s cheek.

Rose wraps an arm around her shoulders and kisses her gratefully. “Kaydel,” she whispers, touching their foreheads together, “Thank you for not hating me.”

“I could never hate you.” Kaydel rubs her back some more, and tries to think like an officer. “Maybe that’s why he became our mole. He couldn’t hate you either.”

She means it reassuringly, but Rose winces, looking away. “I don’t know.” But she looks back up, and looks a little more like herself, a bit of a smile at the edge of her mouth. “Does it make sense I hope that’s not why?”

“I guess we can hope it was an attack of his conscience,” Kaydel says, but can hear the doubt in her voice, and Rose makes a little lilting noise of guilty amusement. “But any of us would do anything for the Resistance.”

Rose nods, slowly, but what she says in answer is, “The problem is, I think I did it for myself. I still don’t know why, why he did either. And now he’s dead and… I’m sad about it. Why am I sad?” Rose presses her clenched fist to her chest in self-directed anger. “We won, and everyone’s glad, they’re all glad he’s dead. He’s probably glad he’s dead. I didn’t ever want to see him again. But I’m still sad he’s dead.”

Kaydel considers her first answer for a moment, and decides to go with it. “Your heart’s so big,” she tells Rose, who finally smiles, though her shining eyes run over again. She buries her face in Kaydel’s chest, her cheeks soft between Kaydel’s breasts.

Kaydel pulls the blanket tighter around them and hugs Rose, thinking that’s the end of it for the moment, for the night, but the analytical side of her mind pushes up an answer. “I think I know why,” she says slowly, and Rose looks up, eyebrows raised. “I think… the First Order was so cold and closed off, trying to not even be people. Not to feel anything except pride and dominance. I remember when you told me about how you bit him. You made him _feel_ it. He had to feel you, and you… felt being felt.”

Rose’s eyes are wide, but no longer running over with tears. “That is… so weird,” she says, nodding slowly. “Weird, but… you’re right. That’s it. Thank you for explaining me to myself. For understanding me.”

Kaydel feels herself smile, her heart easing as she watches Rose hesitantly but definitely smile back. “I like understanding you,” she tells Rose, and, because she’s earned the right to be honest, “And I know you understand I can’t be sorry he’s dead.” 

“I wouldn’t expect you to be,” Rose says. “Like I said, I don’t even think he is,” she continues, soft and calm. “But… he wasn’t horrible to me when he could have been? That sounds so weak. It is so weak. But I still can’t forget it.”

“No one could be horrible to you,” Kaydel replies, wishing it were as true as it should be, and Rose smiles fully and leans up to kiss her, happily, for good.


End file.
